home — to miss, yet create.
in a world full of unknowns; learn to cultivate your sense of home from within.
Growing up my family and I moved around the Greater Toronto Area (GTA), Canada and then closer to the Ottawa area about 5 years ago. I mention this to recognize the circumstances that have taught me to be an adaptable individual. This perspective hasn’t been consistent across the board as I’ve grown; during these shifts I had to make new friendships, adapt to new places of livelihood, create new routines, etc., it was difficult at times. Especially with my two siblings who despise change — it was hardest on my Mother if anything.
Looking back, moving around as a kid has helped 20-year-old me gravitate toward change and work with it, not against it. Embrace it, not fear it. As I continue to travel and explore the world I choose to remember these times during my childhood. In a week or so it will mark my 3-months having been away from home; away from my parents, pets, siblings, the fresh air of the countryside, sitting behind the wheel driving around my home town aimlessly, the feeling of hugging my dad, or having a cuppa joe with my Mumma as we both attempt to wake up. I’m so happy, yet sad about it at the same time. Homesickness is a real thing. I’ve sure as hell had my fair share of it.
I experienced homesickness during my first year of university but not to this degree. To be thousands upon thousands of miles away from those you love most is the weirdest feeling. Freeing, yet terrifying. Exhilarating, yet saddening. A jumble of emotions — all at once. That’s what I feel. That’s what it’s like.
It’s funny how the emotional and spiritual ties we form in conjunction with our definition of ‘home’ are deeply rooted in our psychological understandings of safety and security. That’s all it is really. Familiarity. Comfort. Routine. They all provide this feeling of invulnerability that most — if not all — deeply desire and long for.
I’ve always said to myself, and to others, that ‘home is where the heart is.’ Home is not assigned to you, but created by you. Yes, a house is where you reside, where your family chooses to connect, make memories, and grow alongside one another.
But — to have a house is different than having a home.
A home is created.
A house is simply — just. As is. Wood beneath drywall, plaster between bricks. It’s all the same.
To create and foster love, acceptance, and a lust for life — now that is a home. And we all are capable of creating such a thing. As I said earlier, ‘home is where the heart is.’ Nothing more, nothing but. That simple.
For now my heart feels at ease — with him. Him. I choose to accept and embrace it. With each passing day, I choose to play the game, the game of life. I’m the player. I’m in control — well, somewhat. I direct. I lead with my heart and my head follows. I don’t need to know everything to know that I’m connected to everything. I can have dreams and believe in them without the remarks of others attempting to tell me otherwise.
I am me. I am home. Are you?
A piece of my heart will always be in Canada, back home in Perth. A little piece of me is still hugging my Dad each morning as he passes me my morning coffee. Another piece is there — for my Mother — who always makes me feel seen, even as I continue to stay thousands of miles away, 6 hours ahead of their EST clock. Still. Still seen. Still heard. Still loved. I feel Mother Earth wrapping her arms around me. I’ll always feel safe there and I can’t express the sense of gratitude I feel for that. For home. For the home my parents have created for myself and my siblings. It really is sensational. Parents are fucking superheroes. Well, good parents for that matter. Mine are the good ones. That’s one thing I’m sure of.
Change — missing, yet creating. Creating, yet missing. It’s an odd paradigm, one I thought I’d never experience. I thought change — as an adult for that matter — is easy, because it’s inevitable. It’s just how it goes, you know. I thought moving away from home at 18 wouldn’t be as hard as it presented itself. I thought travelling around the globe would be too exhilarating to miss home. Well fuck, I was wrong — very wrong. I’m learning to exist with these feelings of missing home while creating one. I’m navigating strange waters; foreign waters — as I continue to create this home with not only myself but with him.
Beautiful. That’s what it is.
Blinded by the potential of the future. Deep in the shadows of that sense of familiarity I long for. Craving. Learning. Creating.
I love it. I love what I’m doing and I love where I’m at. This is the most at peace I’ve felt in a long time. Missing, yet creating. It’s a weird thing; the oddest. Yet, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, doing anything else than what I’m doing in this very moment.
And —
This is how I know.
How I know what I’m doing is right; feels right.
I’m aligned and it’s all falling into place as it should.
So —
I enjoy,
as you should.
Get out there right now and create, I dare you. It’s the best feeling in the whole-wide-world. To be a creator in a world filled with destruction of the self and the collective…
Say — ‘Fuck ‘em!’
Be it. Do it. Feel it. See it. And fuck man, just grab it by the balls and run with it.
I love you guys! Thanks so much for hanging around with me as I spill my brains out. :-)
Isobel Mae
